Once Was Enough
by HunterWithFeathers
Summary: Once was enough. It took one silly argument to ruin everything.


I'm usually quite calm when it comes to arguments. I usually know how to cool down. This time I didn't. This time I went too far. I hurt him. I _tried_ to stop the blood. I _tried_ to keep him awake but I couldn't. I called for help but they didn't come quick enough. When the paramedics arrived Phil was already a corpse; laying stiff and cold in my arms.  
"What's your name?" They asked after discovering Phil had no pulse.  
"Dan. Dan Howell." I didn't take my eyes of Phil's. They were lifeless. Blank. Like every ounce of happiness was drained out of them. There was still a tear rolling down his white cheek. The paramedic closed Phil's eyes... If it wasn't for the blood I'd say he was sleeping.  
"Dan, can you tell me who did this?" I manage to take my eyes of Phil and instead look straight into those of the paramedic, "I did".

**Then**

Finally! We're home. This week had been so busy and now I know we can actually just sit and relax without worrying about getting things done.  
"I'll put the DVD on then?" Phil spoke from the other room as I set the shopping bags down in the kitchen. Urgh, I'd rather just sleep. Phil had decided it would be great if we both snuggled up on the couch and watched some stupid DVD he got on the way home. I don't know why, I mean we haven't really been getting on much this week. We've argued every day. He knows I get grumpy when I've had next to no sleep yet he _still_ thinks it's necessary to ask me what's wrong over and over! After about the tenth time I snapped at him telling him to stick a sock in it. This, of course, caused him to retaliate with something like "why do you always treat me like crap?" I'd then respond with a harsh comment blaming him for my grumpiness and he'd look all sad and pathetic – obviously trying to make me feel bad – saying something like "you know where the door is Daniel..." After that I'd end up swearing at him, Phil would storm off and slam the door, I'd swear a bit more, then we wouldn't talk till the next morning. We'd be fine all day until the evening when the whole thing would repeat itself. This sort of thing has happened every day this week and I honestly can't be arsed with it tonight. So I agree to watch the stupid DVD answering Phil with a simple 'mhmm'. Obviously this was the wrong way to reply because Phil comes charging in to the room and gives me his signature "what's wrong with you?" Rolling my eyes I say "don't even go there..."  
"Go where? I just don't understand why you're constantly in a bad mood. Seriously Dan, are you ever happy?" I try to whisper to myself "not with you around" but I blatantly fail as Phil jumps down my throat again letting me know I have knowledge of where the fucking door is! "Oh fuck of with the 'you know where the door is'" I mimic Phil's obnoxious little voice, "If you're not happy why don't you fucking leave!?"  
"Because I don't want to!"  
"Well stop telling me to go!"  
"I didn't say you have to go, you just need to cheer up a bit." Whatever Phil. I couldn't be bothered to carry on so I just let out another 'mhmm' and meander into the kitchen. Too tired to make a big dinner, I get all the ingredients to make a sandwich. "Don't just ignore me!" For the love of... Can't you just storm of to your room already? I continue to make my 'meal' without acknowledging Phil had even followed me into the kitchen.  
"Oi!" Shut up Phil... "Daniel!"  
"Phil I swear to god," The knife I was using to slice cheese was now pointing directly at Phil, "if you call me that one more time I'll..."  
"You'll what? Stab me?" now Phil didn't usually like conflict. He'd avoid it if it was anyone else but with me it was different. He knew what buttons to push when it was me. He knew how to make me really angry and it's been proven that the less I sleep, the harder it is to calm me down. "Come on Daniel, I'd like to see you try!" oh, I really want to punch that smug little smile of your face... "Don't push me Phil" Phil did though. He quite literally pushed me against the counter. My hands were now fists, the knife still tight in my grip. "Phil..." I really need to calm down. Come on Dan. Don't do anything daft. "What's wrong Dan? C'mon you can tell me Danny boy?" My palms were sweating but I still held on to the knife firmly "Phil!"  
"I'm not scared of you Daniel!" What I did next happened fast. It's like I blacked out for a few seconds. I had a hand wrapped round Phil's Throat and he was now shoved against the counter. A small gasp escaped his lips and a tear threatened to fall down his pale cheek. At first I thought it was due to fear but after looking down I realise it's due to pain. The knife I held so tightly was now embedded in Phil's side.

The anger inside me poured out, much like the blood gushing out of Phil's body. It was probably the wrong thing to do but I removed the knife and lowered Phil to the tiled floor. "Oh god... P-Phil?" He didn't respond; only coughs and sharp, short breaths. The once creamy-coloured tiles were now smothered with the dark red, sticky substance. I try to push aside the fear and panic and rush to get the phone. I quickly dial 999 then dive back to Phil's side. Ring, ring, ring. "Come on!" Not only was the blood streaming out of Phil's wound, he was also coughing it up. "Its o-okay Phil. Y-You'll be okay."

"Hello, How can I help?" it took me a second to remember I was on the phone, "Oh, I-I need help! M-my B-Boyf-friend..." I couldn't make out what I wanted to say. Do I tell them everything? The full truth? Or do I wait till the figure it out by themselves? "Sir please calm down. Tell me what you need?"  
"I-I don't know w-what to do. There's so much b-blood..."  
"Okay sir can you tell me where you are?" I manage to get out our full address through all the tears. Phil was still awake but the blood was still gushing out like a bloody waterfall. "An ambulance will be with you as soon as Possible. Can I ask what your name is sir?"  
"Dan..."  
"Okay Dan. What exactly happened Dan?" Oh I dunno I may have just impaled the man I love with a fucking cheese knife! "He... Uh... He was stabbed..."  
"Okay. Don't panic, help will be there shortly. Dan I need to make sure Phil stays awake. Do not let him close his eyes. Can you do that?" Of course I can. It's up to Phil though; I mean who would want the guy who put a fucking knife inside them helping them out? "Y-yes"  
"Good. Is there anything you can use to stop the blood flow at all? A towel maybe?"  
"Uh..." I scan the kitchen and find the tea towel is hung over the oven handle, "y-yeah, I got it"  
"Place the towel on his wound and apply a pressure. It will cause him pain"  
The towel absorbs the blood almost instantly and the once white cloth becomes maroon. "Dan?"  
"Y-yes?"

"Would you like me to stay on the phone until the paramedics arrive?"  
"N-no. Its okay."  
"Alright. Just stay calm. The ambulance won't be much longer. Remember, keep Phil awake." The woman at the other end hung up. I put the phone on the floor beside me. For a while there's no sound expect a cough from Phil here and there. What could I possibly say to him now? He'd never forgive me if he survives this. No, _when!_ When he survives this. I sit with my shaking hand on the now completely soaked through cloth. I jump a little when I feel one of Phil's cold and paler-than-usual hands envelope mine. His lips move as if he's trying to say something but I don't really think I want to hear it. I know what I've done I don't need him to tell me he hates me. I place a finger over his mouth to shush him but he turns head telling me to remove it. He lifts his other hand to caress my cheek and turn my head so I'm gazing into his eyes. The tear that threatened to fall a while ago was a long gone and many had followed it. Again he tried to speak but the words came out as stutters as the blood continued to come up his throat. "Phil... I'm so sorry..." He now used the same action to silence me. "No, Phil. I-I fucking stabbed you for fuck sake..." Before I could continue Phil gave me a quick (and surprisingly hard considering his condition) slap. "D-Dan... Sh-shut up. I-I Don't h-hate y-you for th-this. I-it was m-my fault. I pr-provoked y-you. Don't f-feel guilty D-Dan, don't ha-hate yours-self for this" there was a pause as Phil had to take in air "I love you..." Phil's hand dropped from me face to the blood-stained floor as his pulse slowly came to an end.

It didn't take much longer for the paramedics to arrive. I had time to get away, to escape before the discovered it was I that killed Phil but I didn't. Why should I? I deserve to be locked away, I deserve to relive this night in my thoughts over and over. There were two paramedics. One of them instantly fell to Phil's side and checked for a pulse. After discovering there was none he shook his head at the other paramedic who was sat beside me what her hand on my shoulder. She asked me name and I answered without hesitation. The other paramedic shut Phil's eyes, knowing he's never open them again. "Dan, can you tell me who did this?"  
"I did."

**Now**

I was escorted out of the apartment by the police and into the car outside. I didn't even care about the people watching. I deserve the shame. I was sentenced to 25 years. Jail was tough, I was one of the youngest and I was weak. No one came to visit me and after about 4 weeks I decided to off myself. I didn't go to heaven, or hell. I ended up in the apartment with Phil. We were still dead but we were together. I still thought about that night, I'll never forgive myself for hurting him but he does. We were alone in this strange afterlife type world for a while but eventually our parents joined and then friends followed. It's an eerie feeling knowing we're waiting for people to die before we'll meet again but I honestly couldn't be happier than I am right now.


End file.
